


A Father's Love

by Luthienberen



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Gift Fic, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 20:58:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3182963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthienberen/pseuds/Luthienberen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haytham spends a day with his father among the docks curious about his father's past and having terrific fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Father's Love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for connor1401’s birthday. The request was for child!Haytham. Sorry for any inaccuracies with sailing ships…I was instead aiming wholly towards fluffy family bonding. Not beta-read!

* * *

 

There was a steady breeze blowing in from the Thames that ruffled his hair. Annoyed Haytham attempted to smooth his hair down scowling at the audacity of the wind to spoil his smart appearance.

A laugh from beside him caused Haytham to look up and frown harder. His father stopped mid-laugh and coughed. His blue eyes were bright and his face creased with amusement.

He idolised his father, but at that very moment Haytham was a just a tad frustrated by the teasing directed at him. He deplored being laughed at.

“Father.”

“Sorry Haytham, but you did look funny.” His father’s hand clapped him on the shoulder, briefly squeezing before releasing.

“Do not worry about your hair being blown about son. On the sea you can’t be bothered by such things. You can’t care about the water splashing you, the salt caking your skin as you dry in the sun, or the fierce storms lashing at you as you steer your ship strong and true…”

His father’s voice trailed off as if he was remembering something. Curious Haytham studied his father and saw a misty eyed expression. Yes, his father was recalling the past. Suddenly excited for he might discover his father’s mysterious past – an aspect his sister always hinted at but would never divulge. Haytham was about to ask when his father refocused on him and the moment was lost.

“Come son, let me show you the surprise I have for you. Now hold my hand firm otherwise your Mother will have my head if I should lose you.”

Haytham sniffed, “Mother will be most distressed if I muddy my nice suit.” Haytham checked his outfit anxiously. Oh good, the crisp coat and breeches were still neatly pressed. His shirt was neatly ordered and his neck-tie maintaining its tightness.

His father ignored his rather valid concern Haytham thought by laughing again and not replying. He was only led on past bustling crowds. Haytham looked more closely around him, knowing his father wished to him to always be alert and question what he saw.

Sailors were guiding in ships of all sizes into the harbour under the watchful eyes of their captains who shouted out orders with the sailors occasionally singing a song that seemed to match the rhythm of their tasks.

Haytham wondered if this was deliberate; were these songs designed to help a sailor complete their job? He asked his father who beamed.

“Yes son and they’re called shanties. What else do you see?”

“Merchants swimming around their cargo like fish to bait Father. So many colourful clothes and quite foreign! I’ve only seen robes like that in my books.”

“That is the wonderful thing about the docks son. You get see the world scaled down in one location – or at least part of the world.”

Haytham nodded, craning to peer through the constant tide of people whose combined voices created quite a din. He could glimpse officials amongst the crowd, holding sheaves of papers and hurrying to check the ships, to ensure that the cargo they carried was legitimate.

The smell of food was overwhelming: where spices were out and being scanned by a merchant, their scents tickling Haytham’s nose so he wrinkled it to try and prevent sneezing, which would be most unseemly.

There were also stalls of women and men crying out to hungry sailors who ran to pick hot meat and pies along with drinks that were dark and mystifying to him. All in all an exciting business for a nine-year-old and one Haytham enjoyed completely as they went onwards.

In this way they carried on until his father paused by a quieter stretch where the din was less abrasive and the smells not so ah intense. Here the ships while still busy slipping in and out, but the captains and their crew were more relaxed as if they had finished their jobs and were merely resting before inevitably sailing to the sea’s call.

His father tugged him towards a little ship nestled on the dock with a man who was waiting at the boarding point. Haytham wondered what was happening and if this was the reason for their secret venture.

His father waved and still holding his hand tight escorted Haytham right up to a fellow who was well, Haytham hated to admit to it as his father appeared quite friendly with him…less than a gentleman. He sported bright clothes with a jacket that seemed dyed a crimson shade that startled the eye, his shirt was garish blue of all things and his breeches were not at all clean. His boots had seen much wear and his face!

Haytham blinked. His face was covered in scars – was he a warrior? Glancing over the man it seemed hardly possible he was a member of His Majesty’s Navy with his clashing clothes and a ship that appeared sleek yet was tucked away in this little part amid the bigger ships as if hiding…

“Haytham,” his father pulled him in front, hands braced on shoulders, “this is Henry Gate, an associate of mine. He’ll be showing us his ship and if you’re good allowing you to hold the wheel.”

“Pleased to meet you Mr Gate,” said Haytham politely with all his well-bred manners coming to the fore.

Mr Gate smiled, looking a fright, but Haytham maintained a calm air. One couldn’t be scared of some scars. He had to be strong for father and mother in particular.

“Pleased to meet you too Haytham. Come! Let’s explore!”

Mr Gates disappeared up the ramp onto his ship and his father pushed him forwards. Baffled and a little suspicious even though he was also interested Haytham kept his guard up.

This was an opportunity to discover something about his father so he didn’t wish to destroy his chances either by being too obviously friendly or too distant. Therefore being a gentleman was important.

However, all his goals flew away like seagulls chasing food, when he stepped on board.

The ship was spotless, which was a stark contrast to the captain Mr Gates. Only a handful of men were working, dressed in simple worn clothing. The rest of the crew had to be ashore Haytham presumed.

One of the sailors was mending a sail and Haytham was instantly caught in awe, for the sails were breath-taking, Haytham could just imagine how they would be with a full wind behind them.

Forgetting propriety Haytham stepped away from father and walked over to the sailor drinking in the sight. His father must have followed for his voice broke his fascinated trance.

“You like the sails son?”

“Yes, they are so large yet appear so simple. Surely it is deceptive how simple they appear.” Tilting his head up Haytham asked, “Father is it easy to control them?”

“What do you think?” Everything was a test and Haytham was gratified his father deemed him clever enough to work out the answer even if his knowledge of ships was minimal.

After considering his own question while his eyes drank in the sail being fixed, the rigging coiled or hanging Haytham felt the solution bloom in his head. How obvious. Anxious to impress, Haytham said carefully, “No they aren’t. It takes practise and all those ropes – the rigging – are used to control the sails and how they catch the wind. It would be easy to make a mistake, become entangled or tear the sails if the wind was very strong.”

The smile his father bestowed on him warmed him all over and made Haytham love his father more.

“Excellent observation son, but come and uncover more of the schooner.”

_Schooner._ Haytham rolled the name in his head, impressing an image of the ship into his mind so he would never forget this piece of information.

The rest of the day was spent following Mr Gates who showed him maps with strange names and symbols. He was permitted to hold a compass and look at old cracked books. Haytham was unsurprised to see Mr Gates did not have any of the classics but he shrugged it off as not having room in the overflowing Captain quarters that had silks, perfumes and a few loose coins.

Haytham would have preferred to examine the books more closely but he was dragged outside where he spent an informative and admittedly fun hour ‘steering’ the ship with his father.

“Look son! A whale ahead! Shall we harpoon her?”

“Why not Father? Oh! See to the port Father? A waterspout! We’ll be dragged to our deaths if we don’t run.”

“Sail son. And do not fear, we’ll simply uncover what mermaids or fantastic creatures dwell beneath the waves!”

Haytham found that amusing if a little ridiculous but it was so glorious seeing his father jumping about, waving a sword and laughing a full bellied thing that Haytham hadn’t heard before.

Yet he couldn’t steer the conversation to his father’s past which left him frustrated. However, that was a slight blemish when the day was mainly good sport.

The absolute best was being given a go with one of Mr Gates’ swords even though his father was slightly apprehensive. Haytham had just grinned and holding his posture as taught said, “All pirate hunters must know how to grip a blade Father. I will never kill without reason you know that.”

Haytham saw the shadow in his father’s eyes and wondered why mentioning pirate hunters were so painful. Another mystery, another question, another topic to be unanswered until later.

So putting it behind him Haytham cheered up his father by innocently darting forward and declaring with a roguish air, “I’ve got you Father! You must submit so I can claim my reward.”

Father actually chuckled, his peculiar gloom lifting. “Have you son? And what would you do with the reward.”

Haytham paused. What would he do? Staring towards land he could see glimmers of vividly bright skirts of the few women milling the docks and knew his answer.

“Buy a dress for mother and sister.”

The smile that split his father’s face was strong as the sun making Haytham tremble with hope he had cast aside his father’s sadness.

“You’re a good boy Haytham, better than I was.” A sun bronzed hand ruffled his hair and Haytham near moaned in exasperation even as his chest swelled with pride at his father’s praise.

“Come, let’s return to your Mother and sister. You can tell of our adventures and how you caught a pirate.”

Haytham grinned, the strange moment vanished. Handing the sword back and bowing respectfully to Mr Gates, Haytham decided he would uncover his father’s past and his association with the decidedly un-kept Captain Gates one day. For now he would savour the happy events and share with his mother whom he loved so much, about what he had done.

 


End file.
